


Life's Blessings

by Maimat



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Episode Tag, Friendship, Gen, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maimat/pseuds/Maimat
Summary: S01E06 Rare Species Episode TagBecause my poor heart needed some closure.Jaskier waits for Geralt at the bottom of the mountain. They talk.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 208





	Life's Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Recap... 
> 
> Jaskier: Life is short, do what pleases you while you can. Just trying to figure out what pleases me.   
> …  
> Geralt: If life could give me just one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!  
> Jaskier: I’ll just go get the rest of the story from the others. See you around, Geralt.

“Jaskier, you’re still here.” 

Jaskier looked up from where he sat at the small fire he’d made. He'd assumed Geralt would come down the mountain and reclaim Roach at some point. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Wait for him until he arrived.

“Couldn’t get what you wanted out of the others?” Geralt asked. 

Jaskier blinked. The story. Right. He had, in fact, gotten the story from them. More than enough. “I didn’t know how long you’d be. Didn’t want to leave Roach on her own after everyone left.”

Geralt glanced at his horse, Jaskier saw the gears turning in his head, knew Geralt saw that Roach had been fed and brushed. He also caught Geralt’s gaze shift briefly to the pile of Jaskier’s belongings that were bundled in a pack and ready to go. 

Then Geralt held up an arm, displaying two dead rabbits. “Camp here tonight. Too late to start out now. Hungry?” 

That, actually, made sense. Jaskier had barely been able to eat after watching the knight devour the carcass of that unfortunate whatever it was on the way up the mountain. And then there’d been the shitting and the murder and terrifying shortcut of death. Come to think of it, he didn’t even know when he’d eaten last and his stomach rumbled traitorously. 

The entire adventure had been a tragedy. 

Geralt sat across from him and started preparing the kill. “The dragon was protecting her eggs,” he said as he expertly sliced the rabbit with his knife and started the process of skinning it. Unexpectedly, he continued talking. Describing in detail every moment Jaskier missed. _In detail._ Without needing to be prompted. 

“You don’t shovel shit,” Geralt stated.

Jaskier looked up. “I don’t — what now?” 

Geralt passed him a stick of skewered rabbit meat to hold over the fire and Jaskier took it automatically. 

The Witcher inhaled deeply. “Life is short.” 

“Yeah. Still not following.” 

“You’ve always been a worthy travel companion.” Geralt barely swiped his stick of meat over the flames before picking off the top piece and popping it into his mouth. 

“What exactly…” Jaskier cleared his throat and tilted his head sideways, just a little, as if the world had tilted and he could reset it with a nod of the head. “Are you trying to apologise?” 

Geralt’s face remained still as stone. “What pleases you, Jaskier?” 

“Don’t you know by now?” 

“Good music. Good wine. Beautiful women. Banquets. Those things please you.” Geralt snatched another morsel of meat off his stick. Jaskier still hadn’t plucked one of his own, preferring his meat a little more cooked than raw, thank you very much. 

“Well, yes.” 

Geralt swept a hand around him. “Dirt, cold nights, rain. Rot, blood, and death when I’ve got a contract. That’s all I have to offer. Why are you here?” 

“You really don’t know?” Jaskier asked, half laughing. Geralt grunted and braced his hands on his thighs as though ready to stand up and walk away, but Jaskier reached out, pressed his palm to Geralt’s knee to halt him. “Oh, no, no. Hold on. I’ll answer your question.” He waited for Geralt to settle back down before reclaiming his hand, and finally plucked a morsel of well roasted meat off his stick. 

“You’re not wrong,” Jaskier said, mouth full. “I do like all those things you said. The music, wine, women, etcetera. Do you think I'd rather be sitting on my arse at Oxenfurt Hall composing fine stanzas about courtly gossip? Should I spend my days growing fat, singing the same old songs composed by dead poets, never see the world on my own terms?” 

“You'd be stupid to travel alone. Caravans are safer.” 

“Not my point. Anyway, nothing _interesting_ ever happens on a caravan.”

Geralt nodded. “Right. You need material.” 

“I have lived more adventure than any of my fine compatriots will ever imagine. But that’s not why I travel with you.” 

Geralt frowned. “Why then?” 

Jaskier felt a lump form in his gut. This moment teetered on a precipice so why not lay it all out, show his cards, maybe he could salvage something of this mess. Or have it all blow up in his face once and for all. “Maybe I like the company.” 

Geralt snorted. 

“Is that so hard to believe?” 

“You need to leave, go north.” 

And there was that feeling of missing something again. “North, why?” 

“Nilfgaard is advancing. Have you seen war, Jaskier?”

“No,” he replied softly. 

“It’s coming. And I want you to be far from it. There’s something I need to do. If fates allow, we’ll meet again. If not, I want you to know,” Geralt trailed off as he stared into Jaskier’s eyes.

“Know what?” Jaskier urged. 

“There are few blessings in life. Calling you a friend, is one of them.” 


End file.
